A Rushing Wind
by Airel Firdy
Summary: What if Elizabeth had competition? At a young age, Hildegard Monterey met Will Turner and fell in love with him without fully realizing it. When Elizabeth is captured by pirates, Hildy is determined to come with Will and Jack to rescue her friend. But what will it take to convince Jack that some women are fighters? And when will Hildy realize that maybe Will isn't for her?
1. Prologue: Arrivals and Meetings

_I: Arrivals and Meetings_

a PotC fanfic by Airel Firdy

**Hello!**

**After writing my first PotC fanfic, I began to have new ideas. For example: what if Elizabeth had competition? What did Will know about love? What if there was someone who everyone expected Will to marry, because she was in the same "station" or "social class"? Who would it be? How would Elizabeth react to that? What if, what if what if?  
**

**So I began to write this story. It's just one chapter for now, but it will grow into a fully-fledged fanfic, if my plans go right. :D Please enjoy and if I miss anything or make a mistake, please tell me in the comments or message me. Thank you!**

Hildegard Monterey stood with her father as a large ship appeared in the far distance. Shading her eyes with one hand, she gazed in fascination as the ship slid from the size of a poppy seed, to a leaf, to an apple. Suddenly it stopped and reared naught but a handbreadth from her. Hildy sucked in her breath in surprise and tried to calm her thudding heart.

Her father, meanwhile, was speaking to the governor, who had just gotten off the ship.

"Sir, the shoes you ordered are ready," he said.

Hildy looked to the side, uninterested. She let her eyes wander until they reached the ship again. Her brows arched as she spotted Elizabeth Swann, a friend whose arrival she had been anticipating.

"Lizzie!" called Hildy, and ran forward, embracing the curly-haired girl as she stepped onto the deck. Governor Swann and her father both gave her looks of mild disapproval, but she did not heed them.

"You're back!" laughed Hildy. "Was it fun? Did you meet any pirates?"

Elizabeth's back stiffened as she heard the word 'pirate'. She shifted uneasily.

"No, but we met Will. You simply must listen! It was quite an exciting experience!"

"Will?"

She then noticed a boy, hanging back behind Elizabeth. His unusually pale skin contrasted against his dark hair and his eyes, both inquisitive and fearful, were wide and searching. Despite his ragged clothes, he was quite handsome. All of a sudden, Hildy felt her heart plummet, rise, wobble, and swing into a full-blown jig, and her toes began to feel as if they were floating.

In confusion, she blinked and looked at Elizabeth.

"Let me tell you! It was a real adventure, Hildy!" said Elizabeth in excitement.

"Go on," she said, curiosity mounting. "What happened?"

"We were sailing," her friend began, "and it was dreadfully foggy. Everywhere within hand's reach was hidden by a thick mist. I thought is was a little too quiet, so I started singing a pirate song. Mr. Gibbs caught me," she added a bit shamefully. "He said it was bad luck to sing about pirates, and was about to tell me all about them when Father stopped him. I would've liked to learn more about pirates. Anyways, I saw a boy holding onto a piece of wood in the water, and Lieutenant Norrington helped him out. He was hungry, I think, and the ship he came from was burning. Oh Hildy!" She dropped her tone to a soft whisper. "You'll never believe me, but when we sailed away from the burning boat, I saw a little glimpse of a flag, not so far away, the Jolly Roger."

"Were you terrified?" said Hildy eagerly.

"Yes, very," said Elizabeth. "Luckily, they didn't see me."

"I wish I could've come with you," Hildy sighed.

"It's all right," Elizabeth consoled. "Besides, I'm back now, so we can play together."

Hildy gave her a smile, but her eyes slid to the boy. Elizabeth followed her stare and looked at her quizzically.

"What?" she said. "What is it?"

"Never mind, it was nothing," replied Hildy. "Just a thought."

"Hildy!" called her father. "Time to return home!"

Hildy hurried over to him, curtsying crookedly to the governor, and waved Elizabeth good-bye. As she turned heel and left, she could feel the eyes of Will Turner on her. Hildy didn't know why, but she felt her heart throb a little again. She shook her head, dusted her skirts, entered the cobbler's shop, and made herself return to reality.

No matter how hard her efforts were, however, she could not forget those dark eyes in the next few weeks. Whether she laced a shoe or chatted with a customer, her mind would wander to the mysterious boy and she would doze off into a daydream no one understood. It was five times now that her father, not to mention other people, gave her odd looks and asked her if she was doing fine.

Hildy's head was indeed in the clouds for a long, long while and it did not surface for a very long time, at least not until the next meeting with Elizabeth.

After sorting out gold and copper buckles one cloudy afternoon, Hildy took off her dusty apron and decided to visit her friend. She changed from her dirty everyday frock into a cleaner one, and attempted to brush her hair. She gave up quickly, since her straight mane was impossibly tangled, and swept it into a single braid. For extra flair (who knew if she would run into the governor?), she tied a white ribbon round the end of the braid and washed her face quickly with water.

Feeling somewhat satisfied, Hildy made her way to the governor's house. Fortunately for her, she did not run into the governor himself, or anyone for that matter. Hildy thanked the maid who opened the door for her, recognizing one of Miss Elizabeth's closest friends, and went to Elizabeth's room.

She knocked, one loud rap and three soft taps, the secret signal that signified the arrival of a friend. Elizabeth opened the door, surprised, and welcomed her in.

Hildy's friend had been given the assignment of embroidering a coverlet, and as Hildy spoke, Elizabeth sewed swiftly and deftly.

"I thought I'd pay you a visit," said Hildy. "I finished sorting the buckles early, and besides, I think Lieutenant Norrington's new shoes can wait another day or two. How are you, Lizzie?"

Elizabeth smiled.

"Well, actually," she said. "Quite well. Governess likes my embroidery, at least my roses. You know I can't embroider anything but roses, not even daisies." She made a face, causing Hildy to laugh, and went on. "Will's doing fine, too, of course. Father told me that Will won't stay for long, since he thinks Will's not in the same social class as us."

She put down her needle, her face flushed red. "I hate social class!" she exploded.

Hildy was not accustomed to Elizabeth's sudden furies. She jumped, but settled down as her friend's face slowly turned back to its usual colour.

"I'm not in your social class," said Hildy. "At least, my father says I'm not."

"I don't _care_," insisted Elizabeth. "We're friends, and I don't give a hoot for social class, anyways."

She started as a knock in the door interrupted their conversation.

"Quick!" Elizabeth hissed. "Father will throw a fit if he knows you're here! He said we aren't allowed to see each other unless it's on Sunday!"

Swiftly, Hildy ducked behind an armchair and sat rigidly, trying to breathe light. Elizabeth opened the door.

"Oh! Good afternoon, Lieutenant," Hildy heard Elizabeth's breathless voice say.

"Good afternoon, Elizabeth," said the lieutenant. "Your father wishes to inform you that your tea is ready. He also wishes to speak to you concerning Will Turner."

There was an audible gulp as Elizabeth shuffled her feet.

"Er, thank you, sir," said Elizabeth. "Please tell my father that I will be with him shortly."

"Very well," replied Lieutenant Norrington. "Good day, miss."

Hildy heard the door close, and she leaped to her feet.

"I should go home," she said. "It's nearly time for me to repair a few snapped laces."

Elizabeth caught her arm. "Don't go yet!" she said. "Stay here a moment, and when I come back, I'll tell you everything about what Father says. It's about Will, and I can't bear to not tell anyone."

Hildy swallowed as she saw Lizzie's pleading glance.

"All right," she said finally. "But do be quick!"

She settled behind the armchair again, in case a maid came to check the room.

Hildy sat there for a while, thinking rapidly.

'_What if Governor Swann forces Will to leave?_' she thought. '_Lizzie would be so furious. And where would Will go, if the governor says he should leave? Never mind, it might only be about how polite and well-mannered Will has been to everyone. I shan't count my chickens before they hatch, though. If only I knew what will happen!_'

Moments later, the door opened.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," said Elizabeth's voice.

"Very welcome, miss." Lieutenant Norrington's voice held a tone of amusement in it, and Hildy huffed. Some lieutenants were so condescending!

But she didn't get to dwell on that subject. Lizzie was making snuffly noises.

Hildy rose and was alarmed to see her friend crying softly.

"What's wrong?" she said. "Your father hasn't sent him away, has he?"

"No-o," wailed Elizabeth. "Well, yes. He's to be apprenticed to the blacksmith and Father says I'm only to see him on Thursdays! Lieutenant and Father both planned this, I know it!"

She dissolved in another bout of tears.

"To the blacksmith?"

Hildy's head whirled. The blacksmith, Mr. Brown, lived very close to the cobbler's shop. Perhaps she could bring Elizabeth with her to visit Will once in a while!

"That's not far from Father's shop," she said. "On some days I might be able to bring you to Will and see how he is."

"Oh, please!" said Elizabeth. She dried her eyes and attempted a smile. "It's not so bad after all."

"It isn't," said Hildy. "And anyhow–"

There was another knock. Hildy ran for the armchair.

"Hello again, Elizabeth," said Lieutenant Norrington. "I thought I heard voices."

"It's just me," said Elizabeth. "I talk to myself sometimes. It's a terrible habit."

Hildy could not help but feel proud for her friend's quick thinking.

"Oh," said the lieutenant dubiously. "I'm glad."

The door closed.

"That was a near scrape!"

Hildy nodded. "I should return home now, Lizzie, I might be able to visit another day."

"Yes, do!" Elizabeth smiled, and was about to speak when there was yet another knock at the door.

Hildy went to the armchair and Elizabeth opened the door.

'_If it's that meddling lieutenant, I shall scream!_' thought Hildy in annoyance.

"Good afternoon, Will!"

Hildy poked her head out from behind the armchair curiously. Sure enough, it was the newly apprenticed boy. But he was different in some sort of way– the Governor had evidently given him new clothes, and his face was no longer so pale. The sun had done him good too; his thin frame had filled out quite a bit and his arms were no longer dangly.

"That's Hildy, remember her?" said Elizabeth. "Lieutenant Norrington nearly found her in here. But she hid and he didn't see."

Will flashed her a smile. "Hello, Hildy," he said, and bowed.

Hildy felt her stomach lurch.

"Father says you're to become the blacksmith's apprentice," Elizabeth said. "But don't worry. Hildy lives near you and she says she'll bring me sometimes to visit you."

'_Hildy's also in the room, thank you! She can speak for herself!_'

The thought, both sarcastic and chilling, shook Hildy to the bones. When on earth had she begun to think like this? Elizabeth was her friend, not her enemy!

She cleared her throat.

"I should go home now," she said. "Father will be wondering where I am."

Elizabeth nodded, Will bowed again– '_What manners!_' thought Hildy– and she walked quietly out of the room, taking care not to make any sound.

Once she was within reach of the cobbler's shop, she paused to think. There had been something strange going on between Will and Elizabeth– something she did not know how to decipher. Will looked at Elizabeth as if she was worth the world, and that made Hildy feel sick, for some unknown reason.

'_I'll ask Father,_' she decided. '_He'll know what's wrong._'

Several customers and polished shoes later, her father emerged from a bargaining argument with a very harrowed lady.

"Hello, Hildy," he said ruefully. "Good work. It's nearly dark out. Time for supper, eh?"

"Yes, Father," said Hildy. She slid from her seat, removing her even more dusty apron, and went with her father to their room.

He washed his hands in a pail of water and dried them, Hildy following him. There was a small loaf of bread on the table, next to two mugs of milk and a bowl of apples. Hildy laid two dented plates on the table, and rummaged through the ungainly heap of cooking utensils for a fork and knife.

They cut pieces of bread in silence after saying a quick prayer, and the cobbler smiled at Hildy.

"Don't know what I'd do without my Hildy," he said, and went to check the fire.

"That Miss What's-her-name couldn't pay for her shoes. Shame, pretending to be a baroness, while all the time she was no richer than us! She got her shoes, all right, but only paid us with a large potful of soup. At least we've got a good meal," he said, sighing, "but the men and ladies here are trying to make me lower the prices for a pair of shoes."

"The idea!" Hildy burst out. "We've hardly enough money to feed ourselves, and they dare try to bargain!"

"Yes, child, but that's the way it is," her father replied heavily. "No more of that face, Hildy. Here, let's rinse these dishes and put out the fire. It's getting late and tomorrow another Count of Whatsoever is arriving for his new slippers."

Hildy obliged without a word, but she was still seething. After her mother's death, her father was all she had, save a few copper coins. It had taken them years to save enough money to even open a shop, not to mention buying the leather and buckles. She glared into the scratched face of a tea-pot. Out of pity, their neighbours had _donated_ things to them.

'_We don't want pity,_' she thought angrily, hot tears forming. '_What makes them think we want pity?_'

Rubbing away at her eyes, she doused the fire with some water and climbed into her cot. She closed her eyes and slept, knowing that her life was hard and would not change very soon.

Outside, a lone bird chirruped. It hopped across the road, and peered in the window. There it saw a girl, brown-haired and homely, curled in her cot. It chirruped again, and flew off into the night.


	2. Chapter One: Secrets

_I. Secrets_

**The latest installment in ****A Rushing Wind****! Not much; just a chapter about ceremonies. **

**But there is the rather dramatic entrance of Cap'n Jack Sparrow. **

**Enjoy this chapter! I'm starting chapter 3 and I'll update soon.**

**- Airel Firdy**

Hildy yawned and rose. It was the day after her seventeenth birthday, and the sun was rising over Port Royal like an ascending bird. She stifled another yawn and went to wash her face.

"Hildy?" came her father's voice.

"Father? What?"

Still feeling fatigued, she tried to pinch herself.

"Ouch!"

Now that she was fully awake (and smarting from her own fingers), Hildy had to get prepared for the day. She pulled on an apron, pushed her hair into a loose and badly-plaited braid, and washed herself an apple. Hildy finished it in no time, and cut a piece of bread from the loaf.

"Blast! Late! Father, where's a clean plate?"

"Today's the day!" said the cobbler. "Slow down, Hildy, there's no work for us. All the self-respecting citizens of Port Royal are watching Lieutenant Norrington become Commodore Norrington."

Hildy paused.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, dear," replied her father. "Now, sit yourself down and have another piece of bread. The ceremony won't start 'till noon, and we've got naught to worry about."

"Thank heavens," Hildy said. She untied her apron and hung it on a hook. Buttering a slice of bread very thinly, she looked at her father.

"Haven't gotten much sleep?"

The cobbler blinked and smiled at her.

"Ah, Hildy, don't worry about me. I'm an old man, and it matters not."

She didn't dare probe further, but she had noticed that her father had not answered her question.

Hildy finished her breakfast and stood up.

"Well, Elizabeth will be quite unhappy with this ceremony fuss," she said. "The Commodore-to-be has been planning on proposing to her for many months now, and Elizabeth loathes him."

"Loathes him?" Her father looked astonished. "Whatever for? The Lieutenant is a fine and noble man, and he love her very dearly, as we all can see. And besides, how did you know he was proposing to her?"

"Er, gossip," said Hildy. "A lot of our customers have placed bets that today is the day he will ask her for her hand. They even say that the governor approves. Best not believe the rumours."

"Don't listen to chittering goodwives," he chided. "They know nothing, it's all but wishful thinking."

"I won't, Father. Here, let me go find a good dress. I can't go outside in this thing."

She went into her new room, the cobbler knowing that young women often appreciate privacy to their thoughts, and went through her dresses. Many of them she could no longer wear, and most of them had colours she could not determine. But there was one dress, one that was green, that was acceptable. But only the heavens knew how her father would react to it.

Hildy frowned, unable to make her decision. This dress had belonged to her mother. Dare she wear it?

Best not. Hildy found another dress, a yellow one, and decided that it would be fine as long as she cleaned it first.

A while later, she finished pulling a cloth across the said garment. No longer as dusty, it had no stains that were obvious. Hildy stepped back, satisfied, and went to find her brush. If she was to go to a promoting ceremony, she would at least have to comb her hair.

"Hildy!" her father said a few minutes after their midday meal. "It's time."

Hildy put on her dress, washed her face again, plaited her hair (this time more neatly), and looked around until she found a pair of acceptable shoes.

"I'm coming," she said, and began to search for her gloves.

They came to the governor's house, and Hildy's heart began to beat faster. There, on the step of the house, was Will Turner.

He was donned in proper apparel. Hildy guessed he had just delivered some sort of sword to the governor, probably for the new commodore. And his eyes– they were large, warm, and copper-brown, staring wistfully at her.

"Good day… Elizabeth," she heard him say, and Hildy turned to see the retreating back of Lizzie Swann. Her head swam and she swallowed, not sure of her reaction. What had her father said about this?

Oh, yes, she remembered now.

_Hildy was sitting at the table with her father, eating dinner. She paused and looked at him._

"_Father, one of my… friends thinks she's ill."_

"_She'd best visit the doctor, then," grunted the cobbler._

"_No, Father, she's not in a fever. She says whenever she sees a certain person, her heart beats very fast and she starts to feel odd. Do you know what's wrong with her?"_

"_Nothing wrong, nothing at all, child," chuckled her father. "That is exactly how I felt when I met your mother. When you fall in love, you start to feel very, very strange. It's very ordinary, Hildy. Now, who is this special boy? I know no friend of yours except for Miss Swann, and she does not seem ill at all."_

"_Father!" Hildy blushed, and occupied herself with a large spoonful of cabbage._

"_Never mind, tell me later." The old cobbler sighed and smiled, his eyes seeming to wink in the candlelight. "My little girl. Growing so quickly! Hmm…"_

_He examined the floorboards, thinking and considering._

"_It's that Will Turner, isn't it? Mighty good lad, very handsome, strong, too, eh?"_

"_Fa-ather!"_

_Hildy turned a very interesting shade of red, and he chuckled._

"_Anyway, good lad, that. If y'receive a proposal, tell me first!"_

It was clear to her after that. All these "symptoms", a beating heart, heavy feet, awkwardness, blushing, and a swirling head, all meant that she was in love with Will Turner. But what her father hadn't told her was, what if Will didn't love her back?

She shook her head, dismissing these thoughts.

Hildy looked around. Her father was gone, probably greeting someone. The rolicking sea was ordinarily shimmering in the slight heat, and several seagulls were pecking at the ground.

Her eye then caught a strange figure on the port.

He was standing near the ships, his hat cocked roguishly and his golden teeth twinkling in the sun like polished jewels. A carefully concealed sword hung at his waist, and his rugged brown boots shifted as he walked to and fro. Hildy stared at him. This man reminded her of something, but what?

She thought hard for a very long time, racking her brain for every single possible answer.

Like a flipping coin, the answer struck her.

Hildy's eyes widened. This man looked like the men she had seen in Elizabeth's beloved book of pirate stories. Which meant… he was a….

Pirate!

She opened her mouth, maybe to warn someone, maybe to gasp in astonishment that a pirate would even visit Port Royal. Hildy never found out. A rough, sun-browned hand clapped over her mouth, and she felt something sharp press into her back.

"Hello, dolly bell," purred a voice beside her ear.

She bit savagely at the pirate's finger and he cursed, flapping his hand.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in Port Royal?" she snapped. "What nerve to ambush someone like that, you little scoundrel!"

"Eh, I'm just walking around," said the pirate. His gold tooth winked at her again as he smiled. "It wasn't an ambush, really, you can't expect a pirate not to do anything after he's been spotted."

"No thanks to you," spat Hildy. "I've been waiting quite a while to meet a real pirate, and here you come, puttin your salty hands where they shouldn't be in less than a wink!"

"Waiting to meet pirates?" He looked puzzled, and somewhat amused. "That doesn't happen, missy. Y'see, if a pirate sees you, he runs y'through with a scimitar. Pirates don't meet people.

"Now, me bonny lass, don't breathe a word of this. I swear it on me hat I won't kill any man while I'm here, but you mustn't tell, or I will. Savvy?"

Hildy looked at him, her eyes narrowing. The pirate's hands were darting here and there at the mention of killing a man. She wasn't very sure now if he was a _real_ pirate. Didn't pirates relish the idea of murder?

"Fine," she replied. "But I'm nobody's bonny lass."

"Yes, well, no matter. Good day!"

He bounded away in long, almost-drunken strides.

"Wait!"

Hildy took hold of his arm none too gently and he winced.

"Iron grip, that's what it is," he muttered. "What d'ye want?"

"Your name. What's your name?" said Hildy.

The pirate looked up into the sky as if seeking guidance.

"Well, that would be Jack Sparrow, but to you that would be–"

"Jack Sparrow!"

Hildy gaped at him, and he hissed fiercely at her.

"Sh! Not so loud, lass! It's Captain Jack Sparrow to you."

"Aye, Captain," said Hildy, and let go of his sleeve.

The said captain darted away like an escaping monkey. He didn't look back.

'_Well, that's that,_' thought Hildy. '_What an interesting acquaintance! Elizabeth would be quite fascinated to hear about this, I'm sure. Captain Jack Sparrow, was it?_'

She smiled and made her way to her father, who was watching the ending of the ceremony from a short distance.

"Where did you go?" he said when he saw her. "The ceremony's nearly done!"

"Nowhere, Father," she murmured, and watched as Commodore Norrington returned his new sword into its scabbard. She applauded with everyone, but her thoughts never left the captain.

They began to walk home. Hildy glanced over her shoulder, to see whether or not Elizabeth was there. She choked.

"Father, Father!"

Elizabeth Swann had fallen into the sea.


End file.
